


I've Got You Pegged, Adrien

by Talik_Sanis



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Is Sunshine, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Boypussy, Devotion, Explicit Consent, F/M, Femdom, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Light BDSM, Love, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Post-Hawk Moth Defeat, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Praise Kink, Safewords, Shameless Smut, Sub Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Tenderness, Top Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, degradation kink, not realistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talik_Sanis/pseuds/Talik_Sanis
Summary: Adrien has been a bad little boy trying to care for his “good friend” Marinette. Ladybug is deeply displeased by her boyfriend's apparent emotional infidelity. Surely he didn't expect to  throw himself at other women and not be suitably punished for it?If he did, Ladybug will happily ...disabuse him of that notion.After all, she's got her boyfriend pegged.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 21
Kudos: 104





	I've Got You Pegged, Adrien

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for friends.
> 
> So, I've written explicit works previously, but nothing this depraved and porny. It's ... just smut. Don't expect much more than that. 
> 
> Do not take this piece as an accurate depiction of BDSM relationships, even though there is discussion of explicit consent and the use of safe-words, or of anal sex. Much vital material in a "real life" context has been elided, or referenced only in passing. Erotic fiction is not designed to reflect the realities of sex, or of the complexities of the relationships associated with it. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy, and would very much appreciate your opinion on the ... "story."
> 
> [Massive thanks goes to KatieyKat513](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katieykat513/pseuds/Katieykat513) for her support and beta-read of this story. Extensive changes were made due to her influence. 
> 
> We are no longer anonymous. Why the heck not?

Granted the liberty to explore their passions and dreams, some people knew from childhood what they wanted to do with their lives.

Of course, most children “knew” that they were going to be a dinosaur, princess, or Superman when they grew up, but Adrien hadn't even been given leave to imagine that.

He actually kind of liked the idea of being a princess, though, rescued from his tower...

Frilly undergarments or dresses would only be included if _his_ princess was into that sort of thing.

All he'd dreamed of was being free, and it was strange for him to realize that freedom was really about choosing how you were bound – what you bound yourself to; what you wanted to be tied down and grounded by and devoting yourself to that one thing fully.

As was typical for him, he felt that truth rather than realized it consciously when he was fourteen and he embraced his first chosen responsibility: Ladybug.

Adrien protected because he had so little that he wanted to call his own, and even less that he could claim.

That instinctive demand transferred to others quite quickly, including...

Marinette was sitting on a bench at school. Red-rimmed eyes turned to him, searing him with that old longing as strong as Chat Noir's _fur_ vency to defend Ladybug.

_Lila._

The rage, and care, and protective instinct, and _love_ poured out.

Marinette's tears were abhorrent. There was something wrong with the world – his world – if those eyes weren't bright and teasing, easy and comforting. She was meant for laughter, the kind that wrinkled the bridge of her nose and bubbled up so free and easy as snorting giggles that left her breathless when all that nervousness finally broke. That was Marinette.

When she looked up at him, flushed face stained with weeping, lower lip protruding in a whimper, and reached to him for comfort, there was little else he could do.

So he held her.

All he had to offer as he stroked smooth, slow circles over her back were simple words of comfort and encouragement, promises that he would _always_ be there for her as her very good friend. She seemed to find solace in his embrace, clutching at his shirt and burying her face within its fold, and it quickly became obvious that she had cried herself out when the rise and fall of her chest evened out. With a final sigh, she fell asleep in his arms.

After a surreptitious transformation, Chat Noir laid her onto her bed and left her a note suggesting that she could always go to Adrien for comfort or if she needed affirmation. Then “Adrien Agreste” returned to his father's mansion, though he went for an extensive run across Paris to work off excess energy.

Home was left behind him.

Somewhat bothered by the acrid odor of Marinette's sadness that clung to his shirt, still obvious with his heightened senses, he headed straight to his shower. After removing his over-shirt and chucking it and his striped tee-shirt into the laundry bin, he set about cleaning himself.

Emerging from the shower, he felt a hand press to his shoulder, the sticky fabric clinging to his still moist skin, fingers to the grooves of his traps.

“Orange?”

Adrien only shook his head, trying to beam comforting warmth over his shoulder with an easy, natural smile.

“Vanilla.”

After he was fireman-carried over to his bed, long minutes of torture followed.

He knelt trembling on his bed, her yo-yo string, glimmering like a gossamer spider's thread, airy and ethereal, yoking his hands to his bedposts. He could only imagine what she saw as she was looking at him: body flushed red with pain and need, and ass hiked up into the air while his watery legs trembled under his weight, even though he was face-down into his mattress.

Flaming shocks of pain arched along his spine, melting him into his sheets with shivers.

The heat in his gut and fire in his muscles had built to the point that he burned everywhere, inside and out. His vision flared white as he tossed his head back, choking out a low whimpering growl, drowned out by the sound of the crop as it fell on his rear again. Every attempt to raise his hands to shield his abused flank was stymied by the wispy cord.

His chest heaved with his shocked intake of breath, cool sheets hiding his blood-red cheeks and the hot flush of pleasure that he couldn't let her see. He couldn't let her know how needy he was – how much he enjoyed it, enjoyed the shivers of pain that stiffened his cock as this time her open palm slammed into his jiggling ass-cheek.

But he _wanted_ her to see.

The shivery sensation of her trailing the crop across the delicate flesh of his inner thighs made him want to pull away, but _need_ to stay still. He arched and shuddered, goose flesh breaking out across his entire body as the smooth, flat tip had caressed his balls, and he bit down on his tongue to keep quiet until the pressure was gone.

Before he could look back, even before he had a chance to whine at the loss, she returned and just _tapped_ him, feather light.

“Oh, _god_!” He felt a renewed flush across his throat and chest at the sound of his own voice. It- it was nearly a turn-on. Fuck, he was making _himself_ horny.

The torture stopped; strong hands smoothed over his hips, slowing his motions to a crawl as she pinned him. Her gloves were cool and gentle, easing away the sting like a cold compress.

“Vanilla! Vanilla!”

The little smirk that had her jaw fluttering was enough to placate him.

“Filthy boy,” she sneered, reaching down to palm his ass and trail her fingers across his crack _._

When she touched him like this, he was reminded of the temptation to just blank out, ooze into a puddle of pliable flesh that she could shape to her whims because that's all that he really wanted – to make her happy. She was able to take out her frustrations on him – leave reddened blemishes over every inch of him that was _hers_.

Warm puffs of breath passed over the side of Adrien's face as she began to tease his ear with her teeth, leaving one and then the other stinging raw. It was bliss to have her lavishing attention on all those forgotten spots that people wouldn't normally think of. All the blemishes and small places that weren't sexy, never appeared on magazine covers or were highlighted in photo shoots.

“I saw you with Marinette,” she said as she pulled away, crouching back on her haunches.

A bratty glare that he meant to needle and provoke only had her smiling coyly. She teased her way down the grooves of his spine and arched feather-light fingers over his hip-bones, slipping towards his ass. The prickly light electric shocks that shot into his stomach focused him, spurring him to turn his attention to the yo-yo line that held his hands and tug against the magical thread in a futile gesture of defiance.

“ _Bugaboo_ , we didn’t do anything.” His face constricted into a grimace as she gripped his buttocks, roughly pulling them apart and exposing his puckered hole, which he had cleaned very carefully and … deeply in his shower, to her eyes.

“My Lady,” she instructed in a growl, his hands digging into his rear painfully deep. 

“ _My Lady_ ,” he muttered, wanting her fingers back in the _right_ spot – wanting them _deeper_ \- to his core. “We didn't do anything.”

She smirked lightly at his tone, bringing her fingers to her mouth.

“You're _mine_.” The possessive growl nearly had his arms giving way. “No other little _slut_ gets to touch you.”

Ecstatic contortions of her face were molten honey in his mouth, so sweet they agonized, and oh- oh god - the _sound_ she made. He throbbed, straining, when an abrupt movement drew her saliva-coated, gloved fingers from her mouth.

“ _Please_! Not like this,” he whined and writhed in fear as her hand moved to his rear. Agony would bloom ugly if she went in only slick with saliva.

“Oh, but you're such a filthy little cock-slut,” she laughed while palming his ass again. “Do you want me to just go in _dry_?”

“Orange.”

There was an immediate softening of her eyes and posture and she checked the tightly wound yo-yo string at his wrists. The magic, as they had discovered, made the bite of the cord pleasant and gentle, but he adored her for checking to make sure anyways.

“Are you alright? Is it the dirty-talk, or the lube?” Her gloved hand fell to his face and it was cool and refreshing against his heated flesh, so he nuzzled into it, pressing a kiss to her smooth palm.

And he hadn't even used _Apple_.

Stopping all the way, losing momentum, was a little disappointing, but warm. Love and care came before sex and, well, them.

“Just the lube.” He smiled up at her, slightly blurry at the shift. The role-play wasn't really subspace; it was a different kind of play, but he could give himself whiplash sometimes when either of them had to shift character. “No problem with the other stuff. I mean, you never complain when the shoe is on the other foot.”

“We all have different boundaries and triggers, Adrien. Don't think you have to keep up with me just because I like rough anal.” After wiping off her fingers, she scratched him lightly behind his ear and he nuzzled her palm. “Anal sex is not a competition. No sex is.”

“No worries, Milady. I'm good for it.”

“And you're doing so well, Adrien.” That was nearly enough to make him cry, her thumb tracing his high cheekbone, tugging out a whine. “Thanks for stopping me the second that we started going somewhere that made you feel uncomfortable.”

“We've talked about that, Milady, and-” A lump of fear and resentment that was entirely directed at his father who, even now, found ways to hurt his lady. “And I never want to hurt you by doing something like that.”

The last remnants of tension eased from her cheeks. “Thank you, Kitty. For the record, though, you know I wasn't really going to go in without lots of lube, right?”

“I know you'd never _really_ hurt me,” he assured. “At least not in a way that I didn't like, just a little.”

She smiled as if bursting with pride, leaning in to nuzzle his nose with hers in a little silly show, because she could be just as much of a dork as he knew that he was and it was perfect. “Good to go otherwise? Nothing pinching you or hurting your shoulders?”

“No, but do you think you could undo the yo-yo?” A slight wince crossed his face as he shifted the bonds that yoked his hands to his wide bedposts. “I'll probably need to support my upper body a little better.”

“Of course, kitty. It's the least that I can do if you're going to go through all of this for me.”

Well, it wasn't exactly like he was complaining overmuch.

“Relationships are – are all about giving and taking, right?” He was learning that.

As if by magic, which it was, Ladybug's yo-yo nearly unfurled itself from his wrists. It took her only a few seconds to untie the cord.

An easy nod eased only some of the tension out of her shoulders while she returned to her position behind him and he bowed forward, face to the sheet to hide a little frown, rear hiked up into the air again.

“My _Lady_ ,” he whined like a whimpering child, “it _hurts_!” The gratuitous cat butt-wiggle he offered her drew her attention back to his ass. That was exactly where it belonged and where he wanted it, and the little nervous quiver of her jaw gave way to a grateful smile. He relished the way she admired the smooth curves of muscle that he put on display, always finding it easy to be “slutty” or wanton for her because even now, teasing and joking were part of who they were. 

“Oh? Why does it hurt so badly, my pet?” The slip back into character was slightly twisted by her concern, the crop straining in her hands before she tossed it aside so that she could caress his throat, working her way around the edges of his chest to find all the places that had him melting under her touch.

That just wouldn't do, and he had the perfect weapon to deploy in light of that fantasy she had once described involving him, Luka, and two pairs of panties.

“The other guys were so mean to me today. Th-they wouldn't let me _finish_.”

Her spine went rigid as she tried to process that thought and he grinned up at her while the gears turned, the bottle of lube she had just picked up from the nearby table nearly slipping out of her hand. When the cogs had finally slipped into place, she nuzzled up to his rear and trailed stinging-hot sloppy kisses along the welts that had electric shocks arching up his spine.

“I bet all of the boys already fucked you loose in the locker-room,” she jeered, hand slipping into his spread cheeks as if to test him. “Did you drive home with all their cum filling up your pretty ass?”

“No, my Lady,” he murmured, pawing as his pillow.

“Then what did you do, slut?” Smooth, lubed magical fabric was slick against his hole as she pressed her thumb to his entrance and swirled as he willed himself to relax and spread out, knowing from experience how to release the tension to let her slide inside more easily. 

“ _Tell_ me!”

“Took them in my mouth,” he whimpered for her, the stab of her thumb flicking him loose wrenching a breathless, hiccupping chuckle out of his throat. “Kim, Nino. I sucked them off until they grabbed my head and-” he burned at the thought but said it because she liked it and he wanted to be so good for her - “and throat-fucked me.”

“And what about all of the other boys?” she prodded. When her free hand fell between his legs to grip him, he shifted his shoulders, pushing his upper body off the bed with his folded arms so that he could peer at her hand as she milked him slowly. The smooth pad of her thumb against his tip, rolling, had him humping like a dog with the hot stabs of sensation, confused and muddled, raw, stripped bare but neither pleasure nor pain that rolled downward and outward from her thumb as she penetrated him.

“T-they were jerking off – made _me_ jerk them off until they came all over my face.” Overwhelmed by the cool, slick gauntlet massaging his ass and the way she picked up the pace, jerking him faster as a reward for being a _good slut_ for all those phantom boys, he whimpered and begged.

“Of course they did. Such a pretty boy,” she cooed, but he didn't feel like a good boy; only filthy and actually loved it because it was for her. “No one could resist you. Everyone in Paris is probably fucking themselves, thinking about your sweet mouth.”

It felt like she kind of meant that in a weird way that had nothing to do with the game, and he had to struggle for a moment to keep in character because... because that was _beyond_ 'vanilla.'

“And you liked that, didn't you?” she prodded, Adrien tensing up as her fingers spiraled around his asshole.

“Yes,” he hissed, agonized because she withdrew from his cock to squeeze and fondle his balls. “Loved being a slut for them.”

“But you didn't come?”

“When Nino was in my mouth- I- I touched myself, but- but I didn't come.”

“Good slut,” she praised once again. “That's the only time you're allowed to touch yourself – when you're pleasing a _real_ man's cock.”

His breath came in gasps as she positioned herself, scuffling to kneel slightly to the side of him. One hand, surprisingly gentle now, played over his buttocks, trailing patterns over the stiff muscle.

“And when do you get to finish? What's the only time you get to come?”

Some exaggerated squirming had her hands moving in sloppier circles. “W-when I'm with you. Only with you … in – in my ass.”

Her other hand traced the crack of his ass, before pushing between the cheeks to slide against his entrance with her pointer finger. He let out a frustrated cry, muffling it by biting down on his forearm.

“Ask me for what you want, Kitty.” His mistress chuckled, pushing past the ring of muscle to ease the lube-slick tip of her finger inside him. “Beg me, and I might give it to you.”

“Please, My Lady, I want you,” Adrien whimpered, wincing at the light pain of her intruding fingertip as she began to swirl inside of him in slow, easy circles, shifting the position of her hands and the depth of her strokes while searching for the right spot, hidden away even after all the times they’d done this. 

A coil of strain like an itch or a sneeze that just wouldn’t come welled up in his gut and burned hot right in his asshole, coaxing him to try to push out the intruding digit that felt so wrong - shouldn’t have been inside of him even as his syrupy brain buzzed with the thought that this was exactly how he should feel: full and fucked and _loved_. 

The pain bloomed hotter for just a moment as another finger slipped inside while she added more lube and then scissored him. _God_ , he loved the feeling of being stretched, knowing that she was losing control just by opening him up, and he could feel himself dribbling profusely, dripping precum all over his sheets.

Did even _women_ get this wet when being fucked? Even when between Marinette’s legs, drinking her down, he hadn’t seen her drip this much. 

“You know that isn’t what I want, pretty boy.”

She _needed_. Only he could give it to her.

“Vanilla,” he breathed while arching back into her hand to coax her forward, but it was still a shock when she moved.

With her feral smile, her slick fingers pounded into him up to her knuckles, and he mewed like a newborn kitten, all the fight and teasing squeezed out of him by a brutalizing pace of thrusts.

Ladybug smiled brightly at him as he cried out, cooing as she was placating a colicy child. Her fingers rolled inside of him, probing to find his prostate. She loved making him come from his ass - come like a slutty little _girl_ ; it always left him blown out and broken for her, so greedy as he came all over himself or leaked out onto the ground.

There was just a hint of flaring, pulsing pain that only made the taboo pleasure sweeter, more decadent, as she finally pressed deep enough to finger his sweet-spot and force a hoarse scream from him. It was almost unbearable, three fingers now curling upwards and making him see stars.

“My Lady, I want you to fuck me,” he muttered, hunching back to fuck _himself_ on her fingers, thighs and rear shuddering. “ _Please_!”

He could almost feel her smirk at him, like a caresses or praise without even needing words; the aura of approval was heady, enough to leave him swimming, nearly drunk on it.

“You’re so pathetic, aren’t you? Begging me to take you,” she spat, withdrawing her fingers from his ass, and then thrusting back in with a slight twist. Like a common dog, he humped his mattress, desperate to find release for his now searing erection.

“You little _whore_. You want a woman to fuck your tight little ass.” It was almost awed, praising in a way that was so satisfying as his eyes rolled and he panted viciously when she scissored him again. “I bet you wish Luka or Nino were here, so you could get fucked like a proper, pretty little girl.”

Adrien jerked up, tossing his head back and forth almost hysterically. “No – no, my Lady.”

“Why not? Don’t you want a real man’s hard cock inside you; taking you, fucking you- making your sissy-cock cum?”

“ _No_!” Adrien yelped frantically. “Only you, my Lady- only you.”

“Good boy.” She rewarded him by reaching between his legs and squeezing his heavy, aching scrotum, massaging, stirring him up. His mouth flew open in a silent scream that he muffled by biting down on his own pillow as the pain dulled to a still-agonizing, fiery pulse that bounced against the harsh throb of his arousal; intensifying it.

“You know just what your Lady wants to hear.”

It was strange, pretending to be powerless. There was control and certainty in knowing that he had the power to _give_ her power; he could stop her at any time and she would never do anything he didn't want. What he gave her was entirely in his hands. That was … heady and thrilling and affirming.

He held himself up on a single forearm, craning his neck back to watch her as she abandoned him to retrieve her harness and the thin red strap-on that they had found worked best. Marinette was a bit of a size queen; he wasn't.

With her slow, careful attempts to affix her toy, she was taking too long with the straps, and needed motivation. Rolling over onto his side so that he could easily palm the base of his cock and keep himself hard for her, he loved the way she froze up and stared while he stroked himself lightly.

“Oh, my Lady, do you see how _bad_ your slut is being?” Adrien strained for the best lurid kitten eyes that he could muster. The desperate fumble with her fake cock as she pressed her thighs together in want had him grinning at how simple it was for “Adrien” to rip control away from her, to reduce her to an easy mess the moment that he really wanted to. 

“He's touching himself because you're being so _cruel_ – not giving him your cock.”

Ladybug pouted, leveling him with an almost hurt expression, the red strap on hanging heavy between her legs as she stroked it, spreading a thick coating of lube down the shaft and leaving a large dollop at the head. In response, Adrien rolled his eyes, hunkering down on his bed and raising up his well-muscled ass like a good little bitch, ready to get bred. God! It was agony waiting-

“Hold open that pretty little ass for me, hot stuff.” With a surprisingly gentle pat to his rear, given the situation, easy kneading and squeezes like a cat preparing a resting spot, she coaxed him to reach back and spread his cheeks apart for her. A finger traced the edge of his dripping cock. “I’ll give you what you need - all the way inside your hot, drippy _pussy_.”

_Fuck!_

He could feel her wide smile as he opened up his - his… _pussy_ \- the thought shivered in the base of his skull - and she gave his balls a quick fondle, making sure to press into the flesh of his perineum to tease his sweet-spot from the outside.

She was going to ruin him.

Could she get _on_ with that already?

“You only touch yourself when you're choking on another cock,” she chastised, hands to his hips, fingers caressing just under his belly.

“Yes, my Lady!” he cried out, muffled by his own pillow as he collapsed into it when she pulled back and held off for just a minute, pressed into his clenching hole with just the tip as he instinctively tried to draw her into him again, fine, loosened muscles flaring. God, he really was a bit of a slut for her and he needed it – needed her inside of his - his _pussy_ so badly he could scream.

And he did scream as she dug her hands into his hips and slammed him onto her fake cock.

“Fuck, you sound so _good_ , Kitty.” The grunt of praise had him swimming with the desperate need for more as the rounded head of her cock scraped inside of him. Her voice was so tremulous and eager.

Reaching back with one free hand to hold himself more fully open for her, he braced himself against his head board while she began to fuck him in earnest, the rapid thrusts and weight of her body pressing into his back and forcing him forward.

“Tell me you like it -” a huffed intake of breath had her stutter to a stop. “Tell me you love my cock – _beg_!” It was a plea. How could it be this good – to hear her beg for him to beg?

“I _love_ it,” he choked on the words, pain and pleasure crashing together, leaving him a wreck as he burrowed into his sheets; each frantic pounding motion of her hips sent shockwaves through his abused ass.

“ _Please_!” he finished with a hiss that flooded through clenched teeth, sweat-slick forehead to his bed. 

The sensitive flesh of his ass was stinging hot when her pubic mound slapped into his cheeks, her fake cock buried so sinfully deep while she tried to find his prostate.

Her hands ranged across his sides, fingers finding all those little welts to trace them with fine strokes, spurring him on with the shocks of pain that had him rocking back into her, fucking himself on her slick cock and loving the obscene, slurring liquid noises that filled the room.

“Ugh- y-your pussy’s so wet!” her huffing jeer rang out above him as he clung on to his mattress. “Such a pretty slut for me, Adrien. Say it!”

“I-” he chuffed and a groan sucked out his breath when she adjusted the angle of her strokes, but he had to get it out. “I’m a pretty slut.”

The brutality of her thrusts had his softening cock flopping between his legs, half-hard, smacking into his thighs, slapping against his belly and then jerking back, sticky flecks of precum splattering against his exposed flesh. 

“You want-" a paused for a gulp of breath, drowned out by the crash of flesh on something like latex, slick, squealing - "want me to ruin your _pussy_?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” he begged, eyes rolling as he clapped his cheeks against her so she bottomed out with a vicious slap, sanity and coherent teetering on the edge of a cliff as he unraveled for her. "Please, Ladybug! Please!"

He had to flop down to the bed when she leaned over him, her full weight pressing him down into the cool sheets that cradled his cock and gave him all the stimulation he needed while her thrusts into his abused asshole became shallow. Gauntleted hands fell on either side of his head while he snuffled and whined into his pillow

“No one else,” she grumbled into his ear, voice pitching up and down. “No one else touches you.”

The earlier play didn't matter – nothing mattered but that as she claimed his neck and shoulder with love bites.

“Every inch of you belongs to me.” Scratchy heat built up on his back, the welts finally felt again as her thrusts became rolls of her hips, little humping motions. “ _You_ belong to me.”

“Yours.” He was all breathless need; always was. “Always yours.”

“And I'm yours- your Ladybug, all _yours,_ Kitty,” she whispered so earnestly in his ear.

“My- _my_ Marinette,” he nearly snarled, clutching at her hand, splayed out beside them. And she was. His father left him, his mother left him – friends abandoned him on the revelation of his father's identity, but his Lady – his _Marinette_ – would never let him be alone.

And she'd never face the world without him, either.

“ _Yes_ , Kitty- can you be good?” She was begging him, free hand smoothing over his chest, trusting him to bare her weight. It was so easy, so good to hold her up as they moved together, motions so well-synchronized. “Can you cum for me?”

God, did he want to – he burned everywhere with the need to finish, that ball of arousal in his gut that had gone beyond pain just on the verge of bursting, but he _couldn't_. Couldn't find a way to grab onto it as he let go of her hand, to be good, and to finish no matter how hard she plowed into him, hands now digging into his hip bones violently.

Her grunts and the vicious slap of the cool, sheer fabric of her costume against his ass cheeks with every thrust nearly made it sound like _she_ was on the verge of orgasm.

The ache was so hot, so deep, that even her most punishing thrusts and the thin dildo that was splitting him open couldn't reach it. She pulled back, angling him upwards so that they were both on their knees, her teeth to his throat, biting down and sending shocks of pleasure-pain through his neck that beat out thought. The new angle was agony and awkward and perfect – buried at just the right spot so that the small, humping vibrations caressed his prostate. Still completely flaccid, he hunched up, trying to touch himself, but she curved her arm through his and held him back.

Need roiled in his stomach, his thighs quivering with strain, so _close_.

Her breath was hot against the side of his cheek. “I love you, Adrien. You're _so_ good for me. Such a good boy.”

That hit him deep enough.

And he was clenching up around the shaft inside of him, so tight that her motions stalled, the tip still jabbing into his sweet spot, milking him out.

He couldn't even jut his hips forward when he came, screaming into his open bedroom, not even caring if he woke his live-in staff – let them see this – let _anyone_ see him being used by his Lady, both of them making each other come undone.

The guttural cry broke into sobbing breaths as _he_ broke for her, those harsh, shallow thrusts pounding him to an orgasm so brutal that he nearly whited out, collapsing in her grip. Staring down the length of his own body, past these red and black-spotted arms that clutched him to her chest, the soft swell of her breasts and heat of their bodies pressed together behind him, he could see his cock, stiffening up, swelling now that he was ready. Tension coiled tighter and tighter in his balls. It was like he was riding through coming without actually finishing - couldn’t until he was properly hard. Finally, _finally_ , just when he thought that he was going to burst, his foreskin peeled back, exposing the head of his cock as the first little jet of clear cum arched out.

Then as he mewed and huffed in Ladybug’s vanilla scent, the floodgates burst. His cock twitched violently and jerked, great spurts of cum painted thick lines over the sheets before them, splattering his seed across his bed until it was a filthy mess, just like him. God, he loved being good and filthy, kind and cruel for his Lady - being _anything_ for his Lady. The streams quickly slowed to a trickle, clear fluid trailing down his balls, congealing as his eyes rolled back. He panted and convulsed in her arms.

“Such a good boy for me, giving me all that thick cum.” With tender strokes to his side and rear, Ladybug eased him through his climax. “ Good boys cum from their ass. They don’t have to touch their cock.”

The aftershocks of his orgasm had him humping into her shaft mindlessly, trying to draw it out - trying to keep being _good_. 

“Tell me,” she mumbled into his throat, planting suckling kisses.

He answered in a hiss. “ _Yes_! I’m good - a good boy.”

“So, _so_ good.” She gripped his cock to stroke the tip, sending a thunderbolt through his spine, and his head fell limp, collapsing to her shoulder. A few gentle rolls of her palm had him shuddering as it felt like he came again, soiling her fingers, which curled around the head of his shaft to collect the sticky white fluid, until she brought them to his mouth to lick clean. 

“Come on, then. Prove it, Adrien,” she prodded, offering him her hand. A rivulet of cum dripped from her thumb and trailed down her wrist. “Be good. Clean up this _disgusting_ mess that you’ve made of me.”

He enveloped two of her fingers immediately. In his peripheral vision, he watched her eyes widen and the flush burn brighter on her cheeks when his tongue swirled around them. Drunk on the sensation of her inside of him, on the sight of those shocked eyes, he wondered what she would look like if he was actually suckling on a real cock, right in front of her. 

“J-jesus, Adrien,” she nearly moaned, her hand falling between them, just under the strap-on, and he could feel her trying to grope for her pussy. 

Acrid, salty musk consumed his sinuses as he made sure to gather up every last drop from between her fingers, and it tasted terrible and wonderful at the same time because it lingered, harsh - another sweet reminder of how _good_ he had been for her. 

She started panting, breasts rising and falling against his back and the suddenly frantic motions of her hand behind him shaking the strap-on so that it stretched him roughly again.

Without reason or sense, he angled his shoulders and leaned in, their instinctive connection allowing her to adapt and respond, tiling his head so that they could come together in an awkward kiss, a quick sweep of her tongue picking up some of the sticky cum that stained his lips.

She whimpered against his mouth, the pace of her hand picking up until as if she was in agony. 

_The taste of his cum turned her on._

With his hands to her thighs, slow strokes of his fingers to the sticky film of skin-tight magical material, she tensed up, nearly crushing him as her hips shook, and she grunted into his mouth, fingering herself to oragasm through her costume.

When their motions finally stilled and they rode out the endorphin rush, he flopped to the bed, holding her limp weight by planting his shuddering arms to either side of him. Under her limp form, he cushioned their fall and angled them around the soiled patches of his comforter. 

Her gasping breaths tickled the fine hairs along his neck, and after laying together for long, languorous minutes just bathing in the scent of her sweat, the musk of her arousal, and the florid Ladybug scent of her costume, he whined softly while Ladybug braced her hands against his rear and slid out of him, mumbling little apologies that he barely heard, swimming, only half-conscious.

Paying her back would only be fair, showing her how much that meant, but tingling, obstinate nerves throughout the liquid mush of his body held him back, had him trembling and boneless when he oozed over to her and felt for the crux of her thighs.

“Shush, Adrien. That was all that I needed. Spots off.” The gloves faded away along with the rest of her costume, and the soiled strap-on - he didn’t question the weird Ladybug magic - leaving her nude before him. A hand curled around his wrist and brought it up to her mouth. Kiss were pressed to his knuckles, one by one. 

To someone who was used to being used without a choice, being given one, having the power, was everything.

Those kisses were more.

“Thanks for helping me, today, Kitty. I really needed to feel … like there wasn't any room to think about myself, you know?” Together, they hefted his weight off the bed and staggered into the shower where she winced at each of the red marks along his back as if she was surprised by the force of her own blows. 

“You're sure that I wasn't too rough?” she asked, the twitch of her cheek a suppressed grimace, while testing the detachable shower head for the right temperature after easing him down onto a seat in the tub. He smiled at his silly Lady and drew her to him for an easy hug. Her little naked body was hot against his chest as she knelt before him to nuzzle his chin, though the mess on his stomach was sticky and slick between them.

Instinct, both feline and human, had him grumbling and purring for her to keep his Lady safe and happy, and as he held her, he trailed kisses along her brow and cheek.

It was so easy for her to get lost in that fear, a fear of her own needs and desires, and of being so selfish as to realize them. Strange that they both felt greedy for taking and giving what they wanted when they were the exact same thing – and when everything was shared and given and embraced freely.

“Not in the least, my Lady. Nothing serious. You never broke the skin. It'll be a little sore for a while, but I love being able to do this for you.” He smiled at that little flustered look that still cropped up now and then and made him feel like any pain would be worth seeing it, even for just a moment. “And I love you.”

Her lips were suddenly soft against his. The taste of her as she moved and claimed and gave away was something sweet and fulfilling, a savor that was uniquely Marinette. It was enough to get drunk on.

“I love you, too, Kitty.”

They spent long minutes in the shower, cuddling and caressing, Marinette sloughing off all the sticky, drying semen that was plastered on both of them now. She was careful of his back, testing the marks to see if he loosed any hisses of pain before cleaning him there, and then pressing her soft and smooth breasts to his back so that he could revel in the feeling of her lips on his neck.

How could the two of them have lived without this for so long, he had to ask while she spoiled him, taking him out of the shower to dry his hair and pat down his body, never rubbing as she fussed over him, careful to avoid even a hint of pain now.

Outside of the fire and the teasing, everything was warmth when they owned each other, giving themselves away each day because they wanted to _be_ possessed as much as they needed to possess, like they could just bury themselves into each other and do nothing more than breathe and live.

Adrien hadn't known what it was to live before he'd met her. Now he wanted to drink it in and never stop, and he did all night long when they curled up together under a fresh blanket and comforter that Marinette lugged out of his linen closet.

The sex was amazing, no matter who was topping, but this, he affirmed while she tangled her legs with his and pressed kisses over his entire face and he reciprocated, just basking in the feeling of her, naked and vulnerable – fully exposed as he was to her...

This was the best part of all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading through the story's... climax and denouement.


End file.
